Saturday Night 5.30 p.m. to 1.30 a.m.

Scene: Restaurant.

He: Oh you got here early.
Me: Yes
He: You should have called, come over to my place.
Me: I finished with the client early.

Chaste kiss.

He: Next time, let me know.
Me: Oh, I always have a book and also I have some workshop work. Ha.
He: You could do all that in my place.
Me: Well I wouldn’t, would I. We’d be too busy talking. Ha.

Intermission.

Share appetizer, dinner. Talk for 4 hours over 286 coffees.

He: Come back to my place now.
Me: OK.

Scene: His place.

Me (thinking): Gawd, he’s got my artwork on top of his stereo. Oh, look more over there on the bookshelf.
He: I love your artwork: see?
Me: I’m flattered
Me (thinking): Self: Can’t you think of something even remotely intelligent to say?
He: I’ll make tea, right?
Me: I’ll make it with you.

Intermission. Talk for another 2 hours. We never run out of conversation.

I need bathroom twice after 25 gallons of coffee and tea. He’s put out the guest towels. Sweet.

Me: I should get home, it’s late, the snow stopped.

He: I’d like if you stayed longer.

Me: I should go.

He: OK then.

Chaste kiss.

Me: Driving away.

He: Waving at door.

Me (thinking): Did I miss any cues? Should I have stayed on? How does one convert a chaste kiss to something else? Was that up to me or up to him?

If it was meant to be it would have happened, right?

Posted Later:
Thank you so much Twilight for this lovely award:


Now hung proudly in my hallway at the left.